A Little Bad for a Lot of Good
by K Hanna Korossy
Summary: Inside Man tag: Sam does some follow-up after Bobby's heavenly jailbreak.


_And now moving from Dean's current heavenly crisis to a hellish one from the past... -KHK_

 **A Little Bad for a Lot of Good (or, Family's There for the Good, Bad, All of It)**  
 **K Hanna Korossy**

" _I just wanted to say that Cas told me what you're doing for Dean. And I'm not asking you to stop, but maybe going behind his back ain't the best idea. Your brother, he can be stubborn. But I think he'd understand. And I know it's the life…doing **a little bad so you can do a lot of good**. But sometimes the bad's real bad, and the good…it can come at one hell of a Pryce. I ain't there on the ground, and whatever you do, I know you'll make the right choice. You're a good man, Sam Winchester, one of the best. And I'm damn proud of you, son. I was content up here. But getting the call from you, it's the happiest I've been in forever, no matter what it costs. So stay safe, keep fighting, and kick it in the ass." - Bobby's letter to Sam in _Inside Man

00000

"Oh," Oliver Pryce said with zero enthusiasm as he opened the door. "You're back." Without another word, he walked back into the house, leaving the door open.

Sam hadn't been expecting a warm welcome, but he still felt a little sheepish when he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Maybe threatening the elderly psychic the way he had last time had been overkill. But desperate times…

"Let me guess: you want to say hi to another friend in the Great Beyond." Pryce had stopped in the middle of the living room and turned to give Sam a look that would have withered a demon.

Good thing Sam was made of sterner stuff. "Not another friend—the same one," he answered, and held out Bobby's cap.

Pryce sighed but didn't argue, waving Sam toward the table that was still set up as before. "Clarence didn't feel like joining us this time?" There was a thread of hope in his voice that Sam wasn't sure was for seeing Castiel again or avoiding him.

"No, just me."

"Okay." Pryce nudged one of the chairs out of the way and sat down at the small, round table. Bobby's hat went in the middle by the candles.

Sam took a seat on the other side, and accepted the hands the psychic held out to him. Warm and dry, they sent a spark of…something through him, just like last time.

Another minute, and, _"Sam? Everything okay?"_

Not that he heard Bobby. Pryce was the mouthpiece for their old friend. But the words carried the voice, and Sam had no doubts, even before Bobby had come through for them in helping them kidnap Metatron.

He smiled, already a little choked. "Yeah, Bobby. I was gonna ask you the same thing."

" _Well, they figured out it was me. Angels might be a little stiff, but they're not stupid."_

Sam shifted, feeling a swell of the guilt he carried constantly these days. "Did they…?"

"… _Guantanamo me? Naw. Don't get me wrong, they weren't about to give me a medal, but soon as they started hinting I'd overstayed my welcome, I reminded 'em about a coupla things."_

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

" _Like how you two helped 'em out a time or two with little things like defeatin' Lucifer and Abaddon, and pullin' the curtain back on Metatron. How they shoulda been the ones helping you in the first place."_

Sam swallowed "You know about all that?" Bobby had been long gone by the time Abaddon had arrived on the scene, and Metatron had plunged that blade into Dean.

" _Your angel buddy and I had time for a little chat,"_ Bobby said dryly.

Sam nodded. "And the angels backed off?"

" _Practically fell over themselves offering me another drink. Like the bottle up here ain't bottomless."_

Sam huffed a laugh. Leave it to Bobby to make an angel feel self-conscious.

" _How 'bout you two?"_ Bobby/Pryce's tone changed, softer, more serious. _"You tell Dean yet what you've been up to?"_

Sam's jaw worked.

Bobby sighed. _"Sam…"_

"You haven't seen him, Bobby. Dean's…he's walking the edge. One push, and he's gonna go over and explode, or disappear, and I can't… Bobby, he's not…"

" _I get it, Sam."_ Bobby sounded weary for a soul. _"I do. Boy'll walk through fire for those he loves, but try to do something for him and he'll sidestep you neater than a pretty girl at prom."_

"Yeah," Sam said, throat tight. Man, it felt so good to talk to someone again who _knew_ them, who shared their history and loved and was exasperated by Dean almost as much as Sam himself.

" _But don't forget, son, keepin' secrets from Dean hasn't always been one of your most shining moments. You thought you were doing right with the demon blood and Lilith, too, and we all know how that turned out."_ And only Bobby could invoke that time, that terrible mistake, and make it sound like compassion instead of reproof.

Sam took a breath. "It's not for me, Bobby. I mean, well, sure it is, but that's not why I'm doing this. Dean…there's no way this ends well. If he dies, he goes back to being a demon. If he keeps getting worse, same thing. He's dangerous, and there's no way to stop it except to get rid of the Mark. But Dean…he doesn't want to hear it. If anyone has to sacrifice for him, he doesn't want it."

" _And Metatron…"_

"He doesn't know, either," Sam said bitterly. "Cas's trying to get more out of him, but I don't think it's gonna help."

A pause, then another sigh. _"Sounds like you boys are in the thick of it. Again."_

Sam smiled sadly. "Yeah."

" _Wish I was there to help."_

"You have, Bobby," Sam said earnestly.

" _Well, like I said, I'm not on the front line, but you're a good man, Sam, and I trust your instincts. Even if your mule-headed brother sees it different."_

Sam laughed a little wetly. "Yeah, thanks."

" _I hope you're right about this one, kid,"_ Bobby said quietly. _"See ya around. Just, you know, not too soon."_

And Pryce sat up, fully himself once more.

Sam just nodded to him as he grabbed Bobby's cap and left. He didn't trust his voice.

 _I hope you're right about this,_ played in his head as he drove away, off to pick up the fried chicken that had been his excuse for going out. Bobby had heard Sam's reasoning. He knew the players, knew the stakes, and he hadn't argued. Just, _you're a good man_ , and _I hope you're right about this._

All Sam could think was, _I do, too._

 **The End**


End file.
